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If you ever find an unmarked DVD in your mailbox, don’t play it.
When I saw the unmarked DVD resting in my mailbox atop the mound of bills and musty magazines, I didn’t think much of it. I’m a hoarder after all—I’ve got weird shit being delivered to my house all the time. So I picked it up, placed it under my arm, and carried it into my house along with the rest of the day’s mail. “Hey honey,” I said, after scaling a pile of moldy boxes and sliding into my armchair. “Did you order this DVD?” I held the disc up in front of my face. Denise looked up from the book she was reading and glanced at it through squinted eyes. “I don’t think so,” she said. “I’m pretty sure all of the movies I ordered recently were delivered last week.” If my wife wasn’t an even worse hoarder than I am, I would’ve trusted the veracity of her response. Given her tendency to spam our mailbox with items from Amazon practically daily though, I suspected that her memory had failed her. “Are you sure? Because I sure as hell didn’t order it.” “What’s the title? I can’t see it from over here.” I glanced down at the disc. “It doesn’t have one.” “That’s weird. It must be one of those blank DVDs you can buy from Walmart.” “There’s only one way to find out.” I rose from my chair and sloshed through the unfolded clothes and empty water bottles piled on the floor. When I reached the DVD player—which was hidden under a grease-stained pizza box—I turned it on and fed it the disc. The moment the disc started whirling within the disc reader, the lights went out. “What the hell?” said Denise. “The fuse must’ve blown again. I’ll go and fix it.” Just as I was rising from my chair to begin the perilous journey to the basement, the television burst to life and startled me so badly I went stumbling back onto the cushion. Red light poured from the screen like a crimson fog. The dust particles swirling around my head reflected this light, and made the air look like it was on fire. “What’s going on?” said Denise. “I don’t know. The DVD player must be malfunctioning.” “How? The power’s out.” “You tell me.” A screeching sound emanated from the speakers that was so piercing we both covered our ears. This screeching continued for about a minute, then was replaced by a rumbling bass tone so powerful that it shook the walls of the living room and sent a nearby pile of boxes crashing to the floor. A tremor of fear washed over me as the bass sound pummeled my skin like an invisible boxer. The longer I listened to this sound, the more it sounded like chanting voices sustaining a long note—just like the chanting repeated during the opening credits of The Conjuring. Never in my life had I heard something so evil. Although I’m by no means a superstitious man, I felt like I was hearing rumbling echoes billowing from the deepest pits of Hell. “Eject the disc!” said Denise. The power of the bass made her voice sound like a faint squeak. “Make it stop!” An intense pain passed trough my ears, causing me to scream. I raised my hands to rub my cartilage, and nearly fainted when thick pools of blood greeted my palms. After taking a few moments to clean my hands on my shirt—and battle back the looming panic attack threatening to constrict my lungs—I pushed myself out of the chair and scrambled towards the entertainment center. The moment I reached the DVD player I jammed my thumb down on the eject button. Much to my horror though, nothing happened. The disc reader remained shut, as if it were sealed with glue. A cracking sound filled the air, drowning out the bass tone. My limbs shook as the ground began to vibrate. “Are we having an earthquake?” said Denise, rising from her chair. Before I had a chance to respond, the vibrating morphed into full blown tremoring, and froze the words in my throat. I leapt from the floor as the ground fissured behind me, swallowing up the recliner and revealing a pit sinking deep into the earth. This pit glowed with the same crimson illuminating the TV. I watched in horror as two gnarled hands grasped its surface, and a man pulled himself to his feet beside the coffee table. The man was completely hairless. His skin was ivory white, and his lips and eyes were jet black. Long, crimson finger nails dominated his hands, which were unnaturally long and sunk almost to his knees. “Who are you?” I stammered. “I’m the Game Master,” he said. “And our game begins now.” Category:Fanfic Category:Creepypasta